


cast-iron confessions

by asynchrony



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Datekougyou | Date Tech, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, exactly one mention of blood (or flowers) so it's p tame for hanahaki, moniwa perspective, no beta we die like daichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asynchrony/pseuds/asynchrony
Summary: The scariest thing Moniwa has to navigate as captain comes after he steps down, somehow.for day 1 of AoFuta week 2020: Hanahaki disease
Relationships: Aone Takanobu/Futakuchi Kenji
Comments: 16
Kudos: 123
Collections: AoFuta Week 2020





	cast-iron confessions

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't encountered hanahaki disease as a trope before, you can read about what it is [here](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease). i don't explain it at all; the reader's knowledge is assumed.

When the third-years leave the club after the Inter-Highs, Moniwa sits down with Aone for a bit.

Well. Aone's already there, outside the school where he is every day, nodding to stragglers he recognizes. Moniwa's about 78% sure he waits around because he prefers the later train which is less crowded. More seats means fewer reasons someone would choose between sitting next to him and standing and pick the upsetting option, he imagines.

Moniwa sits next to him, anyway. Aone tucks his feet under the bench with a delicacy that belies his height; Moniwa, being a Normal-Sized Person, can stretch his legs without tripping anyone up.

"I wanted to talk to you," he opens. Good job, Kaname. Great senpai-ing. If that's a verb.

Aone tilts his head in acknowledgement, and Moniwa's carefully-rehearsed train of thought does some kind of problem trolley thing and changes tracks entirely.

"Be kind to Futakuchi, will you?" is what comes out of his mouth. "Er, not that you aren't. Not that you won't be! But..." Moniwa slumps a little. "I worry about you all, you know that. Futakuchi's a good kid. Gonna be a good captain. He's not afraid to tell you what he thinks. Which is sometimes a problem, yeah, but in this case it's not the issue."

Aone's still listening politely, like this makes sense.

"I guess what I mean is... you're both hard to read, in different ways. But he's got a good read on you, hasn't he? He's good at picking up how you're feeling."

Aone nods.

"Do you think you have as good a read on him?"

There's plenty Futakuchi doesn't say, Moniwa knows. Plenty he _does_ say, crafted for impact, that he doesn't necessarily mean. To be honest, Moniwa's not always sure whether Futakuchi's being sincere, or even whether he's aware he's being sincere when he is.

In the last few days, Moniwa's been thinking about Karasuno. He hears all their third-years opted to stay on, and he's not really surprised. They're a good lot, and their second-years don't seem quite as ready to pick up the mantle as Datekō's are. Daichi's a good captain, with a steadiness and honest approachability on and off the court that Moniwa's long-admired in his friend. But he's... a little too straightforward, and it's his vice-captain that rounds them out into such a formidable pair of leaders.

Empathetic, attentive, and full of tricks, Sugawara reminds Moniwa a lot of Futakuchi, if a slightly more Good-adjacent flavor of Chaotic Neutral. Which makes Aone the oblivious Daichi in their new captain pair, and also the one more likely to be receptive to advice.

Aone's certainly receptive right now, lips pursed in thought. They both know he's not the most... demonstrative of people, and he'd be an interesting pick for vice-captain in any other situation. But he's at least as reliable as Daichi, and as morally upright. The bulwark of the team, on the court and off, without saying much at all.

"I don't mean that you need to be doing anything that you don't normally do," Moniwa says, scuffing the heel of his shoe against the concrete a little. "Just... pay a little more attention to him, if you think you need to? It's a stressful gig, being captain."

"I will," Aone says. He stands, then, dusting off his pants and adjusting the bag he never took off; sweeps into a deep and awkward bow when Moniwa rises as well. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ , Aone." Moniwa smiles. "I'll be here if you need any advice, remember that."

* * *

That's the end of it, Moniwa thinks; stopping in at practice and practice matches here and there, he doesn't see anything to worry about. Aone is nothing if not devoted, to his team and to his new captain. With Sakunami handling Koganegawa with equal gravity and skill, the newest version of the Iron Wall is shaping up well.

When Aone calls him as he's about to go to bed, he nearly drops his phone in the sink in shock before fumbling to answer it.

"Aone? You all right?"

There's silence on the other end of the line, laboured breathing.

"No," Aone says eventually, his voice rasping like a bone saw.

Moniwa's already putting on his coat. He runs.

* * *

He finds Aone sitting on the swings in the park closest to school. Outlined by moonlight, he's hunched in on himself, gentle swinging more seasick than soothing. The silver of his hair reminds Moniwa of the crest of a big wave. He takes a deep breath and dives under.

It's nothing he was prepared for, not at all. As he draws nearer, settling into the next swing, he notices the bloodied clump of flowers at Aone's feet. Valerian, he recalls, thinking of his grandmother and her herbal remedies. They'll need to bury them in the sand, he notes absently, then files the thought away for later under the muted horror bubbling to the surface. He knows what this is.

"Oh, Aone."

His junior looks miserable, broad shoulders a dejected tremor.

"I watched him more closely, like you said."

"You—"

He knows what this is. He knew, if he'd thought about it, who it would be. He doesn't know what to do.

One can hardly tell the sea to stop throwing itself at the shore.

"These are good for sleep, you know," Moniwa finally says, nodding at the wilting mess. "Rest, when you're sick, or stressed."

Aone nods, barely a flicker. "I want him to be well." _I'm worried he isn't,_ he doesn't say, but doesn't need to.

"He's not handling things?"

"He is." _But_ , Moniwa thinks, watching Aone's face change infinitesimally under the guttering streetlights. _He's not talking to me. He's talking to me. He's kind to me, and I don't know what to do with it._

Ah.

Futakuchi _is_ kind to him, after all. Somewhere along the way, hauling Aone away from (or into) trouble turned into accepting his chest bumps despite Aone clearly not knowing his own strength. He's grown responsible with the rest of the team under his care, but Aone is the only one he lets eat away at his facade. Now he's noticed, and fears his own strength.

If Moniwa were anyone else (really, if _Aone_ were anyone else), he'd just tell him to talk to Futakuchi. He makes to, but the words dry up in his throat.

"You don't want to talk to him," he manages. A nod. "You don't want the surgery, either." Another.

 _How do you intend to survive this?_ , he thinks, but Aone can read his face pretty well, too.

"I like feeling it," he begins carefully. Clears his throat, not without a wince. "But. I don't want to hurt him."

Doesn't want Futakuchi to feel any more obliged to him than he might already, softness carved out from his impenetrable armor for his silent, tender friend. Doesn't want to erode away the boy he loves just as he is.

"Oh, Aone."

"It's enough that you're here," he says, and Moniwa knows he means it, and that's the worst part, because it _isn't_.

"I promised," Moniwa says instead.

* * *

Moniwa makes Aone promise in turn to text him if it gets worse, and spends an increasingly large proportion of his study time doodling spindly herbs in the margins of his notebooks, or pilfering dubious pamphlets from the waiting room of the medical center he takes his grandmother to, or waiting.

The dam does break, eventually, in the form of Futakuchi cornering him at lunch.

"I don't know what's wrong with Aone and I intend to find out," he says, no preamble, the moment they're alone.

 _And_ , Moniwa thinks, not _but_. There's some significance to that, probably, but he's never been good with literature.

"How do you know something's wrong?"

Futakuchi runs a hand through his hair. He's more agitated than Moniwa's ever seen him, like the control he has over his anger has been filed down so far it's starting to warp under the strain. From a boy who's smuggled half a dozen different knives into school without once losing his half-smile, that kind of tension displayed so clearly is frightening.

"He's not coming to practice. He looks away when I look at him. He doesn't communicate any more," Futakuchi says, and Moniwa knows he means _he doesn't touch me any more_. He wonders when he got so good at reading between the parallel lines of his straight-backed team.

"Do you think he might be sick?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I put my hand on his shoulder yesterday morning, and he jerked away like it hurt, but he didn't feel hot to touch."

"It's not like him," Moniwa says quietly. Aone's not one to flinch away from any kind of challenge, except maybe this one.

"No," Futakuchi exhales.

"How has he been, as a vice-captain?"

" _That's_ what you're worried about?"

"Humor me."

"He's... good. He leaves the yelling at Koganegawa to me, but he gives out praise and the first-years treasure it like rare trading cards or something. I'm not good at that." A confession.

"You're a good team. He rounds out your, ah, sharp edges."

"Yeah. He does." Futakuchi sighs. "I know I'm not an ideal captain. I just— I don't want to take things too seriously, you know? Aone's plenty serious enough for the two of us. We can put in the work without losing our spirit, I know that."

"I know. I trust you," Moniwa begins. Then, more gently, "You know I never thought of myself as an ideal captain, either. Don't give me that look. You thought it too."

"An ideal captain would've let me do whatever the hell I wanted," Futakuchi grumbles, but it's without heat. "Anyway, I'm worried about him, is all. Kogane's a pain in the ass, but the team's fine."

Well. If he can't get Aone to confess, maybe he can precipitate something else.

"Have you tried talking to Aone?"

"You think I haven't?"

"You've always been persistent, you'll get through to him. Like a spike, if you will."

"Heh. He's the best blocker we have, but I'll try."

"Good. Now let me eat."

* * *

`he's coughing up flowers`, Moniwa's phone reads a week later, then, `he didn't tell me. he just couldn't hide it from me`. For a moment, he's thankful that all of his unmanageable juniors still know he's around if they need him.

`what the hell do i do`, he receives, then `nvm i'm gonna fix this`, and remembers he needs to reply.

`good luck`, he sends. He leaves out the part where this whole thing was kind of his fault. If things go as well as he hopes they do, Futakuchi will hopefully have better things to do than be mad at him when he finds out. He knows they'll figure it out.

In hindsight, not trusting that was Moniwa's only mistake. Thinking about Karasuno, comparing his juniors to a pair of leaders they aren't. Thinking about captainship in terms of people he isn't. He's never been good at trusting himself, but he knows they'll be okay.

He girds himself with that knowledge, turning off his phone as he goes into his exam. He knows he'll be okay, too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i spun this out more quickly than i've done anything since i last had essays due, so please let me know if there are any errors. otherwise, let me know what you think :) outsider narration of the hanahaki trope is... an unusual thing to attempt, and i hope i pulled it off.
> 
> if you prefer, i'm @emdashing on Twitter; this fic has a twitter graphic which can be retweeted [here](https://twitter.com/emdashing/status/1346369322659115008).


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